


Step

by Chibimun



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Ghosts, Implied Stalking, Possession, attempted surgical murder, au where this fic can happen i have no true specifics, lots of blood! but zappa is unharmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibimun/pseuds/Chibimun
Summary: Zappa's given up on looking for a doctor that can help his condition. There just aren't any good ones around! ...Or are there?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Step

Zappa was used to feeling like something was following him.

Nearly every second there was a presence or more looming over his shoulder. It was some kind of condition, he was sure; something bad had been happening to him for awhile now and he couldn't for the life of him find the root. He lived with it, the best he could.

He glumly thought about how the school he'd planned to graduate from was at least three blackouts away, or how he couldn't place faces of face that could clearly place his. It had been nothing short of a nightmare. He needed help (that what he had been looking for for so long), but there weren't doctors like that anymore, from what he'd heard. All gone or all too expensive. He had decided to at least seek out a mystic, praying that they'd be able to divine whatever steps he'd need to take to get a cure. Maybe steps off a cliff, at this point. Hah.

But that was neither here nor there. The point was that Zappa was used to that horrible feeling, so he could very much tell when he was actually being followed.

The air was thick and the sky was dark. It had been for awhile; he didn't exactly have a place to stop. He'd been walking and catching rides whenever he was conscious, asking around for information. The sparse zeal streetlamps glowed over him with the moon. and he cursed not finding a warm alley spot to sleep in a few hours back.

Step, step.

He didn't dare look behind him. Those footsteps were too light, too deliberately in line with his own to be someone just passing by.

 _Please,_ he said in his head, to nobody in particular. _Please God let this end in one way or another. Please._

The hand on his shoulder almost made him jump out of his skin. It wasn't sudden, it had just...laid there, rather gently, but it was a big hand. Teeth chattering, hands weakly shaking and flapping of their own accord. _This is it. This is it._

"I'm sorry, can I bother you for just a second? Do you have a moment to discuss your health?" Zappa bit his tongue and tried not to scream, for one reason or another. The voice had a cheery undertone to it, and it didn't exactly sound like it was coming from behind him. The words it was saying mattered a little bit less than praying to every deity imaginable that he didn't die. Or, that if he did, that he would just turn out to be some kind of magical being whose powers only awakened upon death, and then he'd blip back to Australia. He'd seen enough here.

"Hello? Sir?" Tap, tap. Zappa jumped again, snapping out of his haze halfway before he would've passed out. Did this stranger just tap him on the top of his head? "You seem to be in need of medical treatment...I would like to help you, if you'd let me."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Don't just _stand there._

Zappa steeled whatever wits he could be assumed to have and turned himself around. It was a slow and rigid motion. He looked forward and saw a wall of white. He stared at it for awhile, before jolting in realization and craning his neck up.

_Jesus. Holy shit._

"Giant" may have been a bit of a stretch, but Zappa couldn't think of any other words that had the impact of the stranger's presence. He took a few steps back as he made eye contact with the opaque lenses of the much, much taller man's glasses. His eyes said nothing. Zappa trembled in response.

_Am I being chased by monsters now? This might as well have happened to me eventually, after all that business back in college._

He tried to choke out a greeting. A limp threat. Anything. All he got out was "B. Big."

The tall man seemed to take Zappa's fright as a cue, fluidly dropping down to a near-squat and frowning. His hands rested on his knees, and Zappa saw one of his hands vaguely twitch in a practiced pattern.

"Are you alright?" The glow from the streetlamp continued to hide his eyes. "Can you hear me? You seem to be in great need of medical attention. You see, I'm a bit of a traveling doctor, and while I don't know exactly what your condition is, I'd be more than willing to work free of charge if you were to let me try and help you."

Blink. Blink. Zappa processed. A doctor? A smile shook onto his face. A doctor?! A doctor free of charge?! "Yes, yes," The words spilled out messily. He'd figured even if he had found a doctor willing to take him on that they'd bleed him of every W$ he had and likely leave him for dead (he'd let this kill him before he let them try to make his mother pay off any debt they'd give him, as well). "I, ahm, if you have a-any idea, _any_ idea what's wrong with me, Doctor, I'd love any help you can give."

He smiled, and his face seemed much more natural when he did. "Thank you so much! I would love to get started right away, if you don't mind. You're Mr....?"

Wow! Fast! He placed his hand out for a handshake. "Zappa, I'm Zappa. I would say I don't mind, but it's, um, a little late right now. We should both probably get some rest, right? Since we're both out walking at this hour."

It was an an awkward handshake (mostly due to the hand size difference and Zappa's tendency to sweat buckets all the time), but the doctor did try his best. "If you insist on sleeping, I must have a spare cot or such you can take lying around. Certainly not the coziest, but it'll come in handy when he actually get down to research."

Zappa yawned. "That'd be just _wonderful._ Thank you so much." The thought of just laying on anything was enough to make him feel woozy on his feet.

He didn't have time for that, though, as the other hadn't let go after the handshake. Zappa was ill-prepared for the tug at his arm as the doctor led him off. His posture was awkward, slumped to allow for Zappa to hold his hand. He hummed a tune as he walked alone, his steps a little smaller to accommodate for his passenger. It was hard not to get swept up in the mystery miracle worker's attitude.

And somewhere along that way (he didn't know how long it took, his ability to parse time had gotten noticeably worse recently), Zappa's initial excitement started to fade. Did he just forget that the man had presumably been following him? And how had he been able to say anything about Zappa's condition with such confidence if they had only just met? He could feel his hands start to shake again. He covered his face best he could with his free hand. What was going to happen? What did he just let himself get roped into? He'd ask why he let this happen in the first place, but he knew why, of course. Miserably, he sighed and thought of his mother back home. He just wanted to see her face to face again.

...Not talking to strangers was a lesson she'd instilled in him so many times as a kid, too. His stomach growled and he almost tripped over his own feet. Money and exhaustion was enough to make him forget all that, it seemed.

 _But..._ Some hopeful part of his brain piped up. _That's an awfully weird and specific lie, just saying he's a doctor. And he looks the part, right? Even if he looks a little strange. If he just wanted to rob you or kill you or anything, he could've don't it way before now. We've passed plenty of abandoned buildings and ominously lit alleyways!_

He considered. _That's a good point, inner voice of hope. He seems weird, but he's probably alright._

_And if he isn't, you're good at running, Zappa._

_Yes, yes I am._

Gulp.

"You know, I've been—" His voice cracked. "I've been thinking, and I'd like to ask you how you knew I needed um, any treatment? We haven't met before, and if we did I'm very sorry. I don't remember you at all."

The doctor kept humming. "No, we haven't met. I've been keeping a respectful distance from you since I first saw you hurting. I didn't want to scare you too bad if I didn't think I could help you. Did I come off as too strong? I'm very sorry."

_ I've been keeping a respectful distance form you since I first saw you hurting.  _ Those words echoed in Zappa's head. He hadn't sensed being followed by this presence before tonight. What the hell? And did this man just practically admit to stalking him?  


_ Did this man just practically admit to stalking _ him?! He felt his stomach turn.

"No, no, you're fine." Zappa coughed to mask the look on his face. "I probably should've asked more questions before we started walking, is all."

"I must disagree. I worry about people so often, but it's so rare of people to be as concerned about their health as they should be. The body simply _needs_ a tune-up every now and then, and some need it more severely than others. You must understand, in so many cases, if you don't get that tune-up in time, well..."

Zappa didn't like the way he trailed off. The air got colder for a second. The doctor's grip on his hand tightened. And tightened. His face was stuck in a dead stare ahead. _And tightened._

"Doc? Um, Doc? Are you o-"  


"We're here!" He said suddenly, opening a door. It seemed like it was...out of place, somehow. It was dark inside, something Zappa loathed. The doctor didn't seem to notice his hesitance, almost yanking him inside.

"Um, you're holding on kinda, k-kinda tight, and it's really dark in here." He offered weakly. "Are there any lights? Ah, at least?"

"Of course!" He didn't elaborate, nor did he make any attempt to turn them on.

There was a sudden stop, and Zappa made a choked noise as he bumped into the man in front of him. There was a wet noise under his foot. His breath hitched as he stepped in place. There was a wet noise under his foot.

Oh no.

Zappa was entering a full panic as he was pulled through yet another door into a brightly lit hospital room. The door shut behind them without prompt. It was coming from the walls. It dripped down. It dripped down slow.

He whimpered. The doctor didn't respond, simply smiling at him. "I've been using the time of our trip to study you more closely! Your problems are definitely of a spiritual manner."

"Mnngh. Whh-wwhwh. B. There's. B-Blood in here."

There was so _much_ of it.

"Unfortunately, that's not something I have previous experience with. My particular magical skills wouldn't help you, and somehow all the training I've had hasn't prepared me for this in the slightest..." For a second, he was almost sad.

Zappa's legs gave out, and the doctor quickly scooped him up, setting him on the b—on the table. Where did the bed go? Where did that light come from? Everything around him spun in shades of red.

"I've deduced that there are several spirits inside you, however, and it seems like they're rather crowded in there! You sometimes feel as if your skin is crawling from underneath, yes?" There was something wrong about the way he spoke.

Zappa began to sob in reply. His head was splitting. He couldn't move.

"And this causes you incredible physical pain, yes? I can tell. It's horrible to see someone in such pain and know you can't do anything about it! Haha! Ah, I knew I just had to try _something."_

It was harder to say that he covered Zappa's mouth than it was to say he covered most of the bottom half of his face. Zappa didn't even remember when he started screaming.  


"So I figured, if it's having so many entities inside of you, they must just be stretching the limits of your body, both information-wise and physically. And If I can't remove the spirits, well..."

Something was clawing at him. It hurt. It hurrt.

"I'm sure I can find something else I _can!"_ He giggled, and Zappa's ears rang.

Everything was fuzz. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. Was he breathing? He wasn't hurting from the outside yet, maybe he was looking for his tools or something? Could Zappa move? He did his best to brush his hair from his face, and something stopped his wrist.

His mouth was uncovered, now. He shrieked as loud as he could.

Zappa saw neon, and saw nothing else. He could move his arms again, but he wasn't the one moving them. There was a harsh clattering, and he heard the doctor make some horrible, shrill noise. Whatever he had tried to say afterward was cut off by the sound of him being thrown against the wall.

His vision was starting to fade against the sharp electric neon, but he could just barely see the doctor's broken face as he slumped against the wall. The door in front of his almost seemed to disappear as he was carried through it. What was carrying him?

God, did it matter anymore? It was going decently fast.

There was a door at the end of the hallway, they just had to make it there. Zappa heard the noise of wet footsteps—or something like them—get closer and closer behind. How was he chasing them? Only then did he realize he was floating. _Faster,_ he wanted to shout. _Faster, faster, faster, please god go faster._

Time seemed to slow down around them.  They burst through the door and kept going. Zeal lamps busted around their escape. Zappa couldn't hear anything natural over the pitch in his ears, just the sound of a dog snarling, and three matching screams of rage.

Zappa screamed with them, until his vision cut out, and he could scream no more.

He woke up in an alley three towns away, and he sobbed at the blood on his shoes before curling into a ball and going back to sleep. When he woke up, it was back to finding a mystic.

**Author's Note:**

> there's a comment on this video of mio honda's step! that says "listens delightfully while harvesting someone's organs while they're still conscious". so yeah, i listened to it while editing this. and also it is now canonically what baldhead is humming throughout. i hope you enjoyed!


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